Beautiful Little Fool
by I'm a Zombie Slayer
Summary: Daisy hoped that Her daughter Pamela would grow into a beautiful fool. Sadly, Pamela is far from a fool and unlike her mother She does not fear striking out on her own. Pamela has returned home from Oxford to visit her parents. She soon begins to unravel the truth of what happened to break apart her parents and Nick Carraway twenty years ago. 1st story on FFN, reviews are welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Beautiful Fool

Pamela- chapter 1

I am Pamela Elizabeth Buchanan. My life was relatively normal for a girl of my status until the summer of '44 when I decided to return home.

I had spent last 3 years in England earning a Degree in English. I was devoted to my studies and had finished my degree early. After a few years of avoiding home with school, I now had no excuse to stay away. My mother has been to asking me to return more frequently the past few months.

I had gone to school instead of getting married like my parents insisted. My parents' disapproval had led to an argument the night before I left.

 _*Flashback*_

 _"I've already been accepted," I exclaimed._

 _"No! Absolutely not! No daughter of mine is going across the ocean for some silly notion of being a writer!" Father's face was red like he was ready to strike me._

 _I held my ground. "I'm not going to sit around and waste my life being trophy in an unhappy marriage," I tried not to flinch as father moved closer with his arm raised._

 _"Of course not there are plenty of boys out there, your father and I will look for a suitable one. Just because it didn't work out with the Tompson boy-," my mother Daisy tried to defuse the situation._

 _"You're not listening! I don't want to marry, I want to be a writer," I stomped to my room._

 _I could hear my parents arguing in the room I left them. I couldn't help but laugh, my parents spend most of their time forgetting I exist. After what feels like hours my mother walks in alone. My father had probably gone out for a drink._

 _"Your father and I discussed the issue-" she started._

 _"I'm going," I cut her off. I knew I was acting like a child but my future was on the line._

 _"We'll let you go until you go tired of this idea you've adopted," she continued like I hadn't spoken._

 _"You must send lots of letters and tell us when you're ready to come home," she smiled at me._

 _"Thank you," I smiled despite her lack of faith in my choice._

 _"Yes, yes, I'll send you plenty of allowance to make sure you keep up with the latest styles and am sure you'll be able to find a good husband at Oxford..." She began_ _._

 _*Flashback end*_

"We're here Miss."

"Pardon," I was brought out of my thoughts.

"Your stop, we are here," he repeated. I thanked him and handed him money for the ride.

I looked up at the house I grew up in. I didn't feel happiness that many speak about when they return home-it felt like just another place. East Egg- I felt no fondness for the community. All I felt was the loneliness and lies that filled many of these houses.

"I'll take that for you miss," my parents' doorman took my bags. I walked into the lounge where my parents were with a guest.

"Pammy!" My mother Daisy hugged and called me by the nickname she had given me as a child.

"Hello mother," I returned the hug.

"It's been too long I've missed you terribly," mother said the expected pleasantries for when a guest arrives and sat back down. My mother's affections were only ever given to me when company was around and it was expected of her.

"I see England hasn't done you much good as I had hoped it would," I could see mother scrutinizing my outfit. I was wearing a plain white blouse and a bright blue A-line skirt. I liked my outfit it was comfortable and not over the top like my mother's dresses.

"Nope! Still a single writer like I intend," I smiled as the guest tried to cover up their snort.

"Sit down Pamela, let me get you a drink," my father gave me a look that told me to shut up as he left the room. I sat down next to my mother.

"Nicky, this is Pamela. Pamela this is Nick Carraway, our cousin," my mother introduced us.

I had heard many stories about Nick Carraway. More often than not my parents compared me to him and said I'd end up like him. He used to live in west egg and sell bonds before the depression. He had a falling out with my parents and moved shortly after the summer of 1922. Nick had become a fairly successful author a few years after. He never depended on his family's money and made a life for himself.

"Nice to meet the man I'm so often compared to. I'd tell you it was only good things but that'd be a lie" I shook his hand.

"Pamela," my father said in a stern voice handing me my drink.

"Nice to meet a young lady so honest," he smiled. He gave me a bright smile like I had just showed him something amazing. I suppose that by now a man in his 50's must be used to the lies that come with social elites.

My father snorted and shook his head. My mother looked at me horrified. I felt no need to play perfect daughter for them when they rarely acted as parents for me.

"So Nick, how's that writing going for you," my father spoke in an unctuous tone.

"Fairly well- Actually, I'm almost done with a new book-"

"Another fictional book I suppose?" Father rudely cut Nick off.

"I believe Mr. Carraway's books are wonderful. His books bring to light many social issues-" I began before father cut me off.

"Oh, I've read his books! Load of nonsense, equality between races and genders..." He went on about whites being the superior race. Unable to listen to my father's nonsense any longer, I stood up.

"Mr. Carraway! Come with me to see the gardens! I haven't seen them in years," I grabbed Nick's arms pulling him in the direction of the gardens.

"Sorry about my father. He doesn't have any sense at times," I told.

"Tom's always been that way," he said.

"Why are you here," I look him in the eye and get straight to the point.

"Daisy asked me to come after she received some bad news," he told me cautiously, like one misplaced word could set me off. What news would my mother have that'd be so secretive?

"Oh?" I urge him to continue.

"Your parents will tell you in their own time." He shook his head clearly indicating he had no intention of telling me more. We walk for a bit in the garden.

"I truly do like your books. They were part of what inspired me write," I looked at Nick to watch his reaction. Surprise flitted across his face.

"You're a writer?" He looked at me carefully, like everything about me would suddenly reveal itself.

"I just finished my degree in English. I've been gone the past few years and returned home today. I've only published one novel, nothing compared to your work," I blushed. I always feel embarrassed when I talk about myself too much.

"Oh-tell me about your book" He looked at me curious.

"It's about a woman that works in a factory and struggles to find work after the war," I looked down.

"It does seem inevitable that woman will be discouraged from working when the Great War ends," he nodded showing he agreed with me.

I smiled at him. My father had hated the book and everything it stood for and my mother just couldn't wrap her head around a woman working.

"You're not like them," Nick looked me in the eyes. He didn't clarify but I knew he meant my parents.

"Neither are you," I responded.

We were quiet as we walked back to the house. Nick and I spent some time with my parents making idle chitchat until he excused himself saying he was visiting a friend later.

"Pammy, it's been so long since I've seen you," my mother said from her seat next to my father.

"You're almost 24 now; it's time you settled down. Like a proper young woman," my father said.

"There's a suitable young man down the street and I was thinking-"

"Absolutely not," I told my mother.

"I have no intention of marrying anytime soon. I plan to support myself with my writing," I continued.

"Support yourself-" he sputtered.

"It's getting late and I'm sure Pammy is just tired from her long day. Let's all go to bed," my mother stood up. I nodded to her and retired to my room for the night.

In my room I couldn't help but look out across the bay and wonder what is out there. There is so much out there for me to explore-to learn. I reach my hand out as if I could grab onto the future I dreamed of for myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Beautiful Fool

Pamela- chapter 1

 **Originally, I was going to just let the story die after I received no comments but thanks to Remy-chan 27516 who favorited and followed my story yesterday I decided to continue! Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!**

I woke up to a bright ray of light blinding me. I groaned and rolled over still jet lagged. I threw the blankets my head prepared to waste the day away.

"Pammy," my mother came in and pulled the blankets off of me.

"Mom," I grabbed for blankets that were no longer there.

"No it's time for you to get up. I have much planned for today," she walked out with my blankets.

After dragging myself out of bed I went to my closet. My bags had been unpacked for me by one of the help. All of the help had been replaced since I had last been home-mother or father must have had another scandal they needed to cover up.

I pulled out a pair of pants and a blouse I had bought while I was away. It was comfortable yet still fashionable for the average woman. Mother and father likely won't approve since it's not up to mother's garish taste.

I walked downstairs to my mother who was wearing one of her gaudy dresses. Mother did a double take at my outfit and looked like she had sucked on a lemon. She pinched her nose and exhaled deeply. I had to resist the urge to smile at her dramatics.

"What are you wearing," she looked as if my outfit had personally offended her

.  
"Pants and a blouse," I put my hands in my pockets.

"That is not appropriate for a woman of your status, no wonder you couldn't find a man at Oxford!" She shook her head in disbelief.

"Most woman are wearing pants now, you should try them. They're much more practical than the flamboyant dresses you'd have me wear," I shrugged, ignoring her comment about a husband.

"Pants are for poor woman who work in factories, you should never have to work a day in your life," she grabbed my arm and pulled me back to my room.

"Strip," she demanded. I did as she said.

My mother began to rummage through my closet, murmuring about woman today and their lack of style. She finally pulled out a gown she had bought me a few years ago I tried not to grimace at the flashiness of it. I wouldn't be able to do much besides look pretty in it.

"This will work, we'll have to pick you up some more while we're in town of course," she tossed me the dress. I knew better than to argue with my mother about my wardrobe. It's just a visit I remind myself.

I put on the dress. The dress doesn't look terrible but it's too much for a causal day, perhaps a party. I couldn't imagine myself willing going to a party that would require me to wear something like this. A sudden realization hits me as my mother does my hair and makeup.

"We're not meeting anyone today, right," I ask slowly. Mother smiled at me.

"This morning we'll go to town and get you a better wardrobe. This afternoon I've invited the Johnsons for tea," she told me.

"Mother no," I whined. The Johnsons were another well off family in east egg with two sons near my age. The boys were all brawns no brains.

"The family is well off, either boy could make you happy," she continued my makeup.

"Money doesn't create happiness," I crossed my arms. Mother pursed her lips and didn't dignify my comment with a response.

"Come we must head to town," Mother I followed mother out to the car.

We sat in the back seat together while a driver took us to town. Mother has always refused to drive and made my father hire a driver when I was a child. I received a license while I was at Oxford and often drove my friends' home after their parties. I doubt mother would be glad to hear about me driving.

"…Are you listening," my mother frowned at me.

"Sorry," I blushed.

"I was thinking that after we got you some clothes we could go for lunch." She repeated herself for me.

"That sounds nice," I smiled at her.

We spent the next several hours getting dresses tailored to me.

"You're beautiful," my mother looked at me close to tears.

I looked down at the dresses she picked out for me. I was a near copy of her in her youth. The only difference was that I had my father's hair; brown and wavy instead of her blond. She looked so pleased at me in the dresses I knew I'd wear them again to get her to look at me like that.

My mother paid for the dresses and had a man take them out to our driver. I looked at the large mass of dresses and couldn't help but think it was a waste for me to have so many dresses. I'd only wear each dress once or twice because that's what ladies "of my status" do.

"Come," my mother lead me into a restaurant.

"Reservation for Buchanan," my mother told the hostess.

"Of course," the woman led us to a secluded corner of the restaurant. My mother never used to reserve tables in corners. She likes being seen in the center of a group.

Mother and I sat down and she ordered for us. She played with a napkin and avoided eye contact. I could tell she was working her nerve up to something and let her be while I ate.

It was during desert she worked up the courage to tell me what was bothering her.

"I-I know your father and I haven't shown it over the years, but we do care for you," she paused.

"Mother, I-" I didn't know how to respond my mother never shared real feelings with me.

"Let me finish before you say anything. You're father and I want to make sure you're taken care of because we won't be here forever," she looked me in the eyes in the moment and I could see a lifetime of regret in her expression.

"I'm dying, lung disease!" She let out a sob. I looked at her with wide eyes I'd never seen my mother show so much emotion.

"I want to see you taken care of before I pass. Please just meet with some of the boys we've picked for you," she grabbed my hand.

I didn't know how to respond. My mother had never placed me in situations involving real emotions when I was a child.

"Mother I know you want me married to a rich man but I can't! I'm not like you. I'll marry for love or not at all. I've done fairly well on my book, I've made a few hundred," I looked her in the eyes.

"If only you'd been around in my youth. You would have been better for jay than I would have," she became lost in thoughts of her youth. Knowing that she was dying must have her reminiscing the past.

I couldn't help but wonder who jay was. An old friend? Perhaps a lover? She had never spoken to me about a lover in the past. Then again father and her have both had their fair share of affairs over the years that they both pretend they don't see. Jay must have been one of the many undeserving broken hearts my mother left behind. It's something my parents have in common; they use good people and spit them out.


	3. Chapter 3

Beautiful Fool

Pamela- chapter 3

 **Thank you to C.A. Crest and Remy-chan 27516 who both left lovely reviews on my last chapter! Here's chapter 3!**

The ride home has been silent. Mother kept sneaking glances at me. I didn't know what to do with the information she had given me. My mother had given me three major pieces of information to take in; she's dying, I'm expected to marry now more than ever, and the mysterious Jay.

When mother and I had arrived home the help grabbed our bags and put them up for us. Father was waiting for us in the lounge. Looking at father I could now see that he looked tired and stayed closer to mother than he usually would. This wasn't the usual buying mother extras gifts after one of their affairs came to light. He lingered just close enough to be in my mother's space but not close enough to cause gossip from a guest. Was my father truly concerned about losing my mother?

"The Johnsons are coming over soon," my mother gave me a desperate look.

I wanted to argue but she wanted me to meet them so badly. I knew I would never marry one of the Johnson boys but I'd meet them to give her some relief. If it makes her feel better introducing me to different men in the short time she had left I'd let her.

"Okay I'll be reading until they arrive," I rushed to the library.

The library was filled with books. It was much larger in size to any store you'd go to. Generations of Buchanans had added to the mass assortment of books in the family library. I avoided books from the last few decades; they were full of my father's racist ideas. I picked up a book from the enlightenment period and began to read.

"Pamula," my father walked into the library.

"Yes father?" put my book down and smiled at him.

"Tonight some men will be here to meet you. I expect you to marry soon and became a respectable woman soon," He shifted in the doorway. His body language showed that he felt guilty and I couldn't help but wonder why.

"You're more than past the age for a woman to marry and your mother will not be here to put up with your nonsense much longer," he told me. He made sure not mention himself, implying that he would not be in my life.

"Sounds like you already have plans for after mother passes," I gave him a piercing look.

"I will move on just as you will. The only thing missing is a marriage for you," he evaded responding to my implications.

"Are you planning to remarry after mother," father wasn't too old to remarry but it was too soon for him to be planning on it.

"We are talking about your future. Stop changing the topic," he gained a frustrated tone. He wanted to get rid of me and forget mother.

"Who is she," he had probably already thought too much on life after mother to not have a back up woman.

"That doesn't concern you," he stormed out of the library.

I crossed my arms from where I sat. As always father just wanted me out of the way. At least mother had benevolent reasons to marry me off. Father just wants me to become someone else's responsibility. He woman waiting for after mother passes.

I felt anger stir in my stomach. Father has had many mistresses over the years but he never had plans to keep them. It may have been childish but I wanted my father to at least pretend he cared about mother. I wanted my father to wait until long after my mother's death to find another woman to warm his bed.

"Miss Buchanan, your parents request your presence downstairs. The Johnsons have arrived," one of the help told me.

"Thank you," I walked down to the dining area were they all were.

"Pammy! Come here," mother was talking with Mrs. Johnson.

"Marge this is my daughter Pamela," my mother introduced me to Mrs. Johnson.

"These are my sons Robert and James," the boys stood and kissed my hand.

Both of the boys were tall and all muscle. I had never actually met the boys but growing up in the same community made it so everyone knew each other in passing. I had heard that the boys had played polo in their time at Yale.

Robert was in his mid 30s and a womanizer to the boot. The poor woman that chose to be his wife would find nothing but a cold bed and money.

James was a year or two older than me and had little interest in woman at all. James had always been that way and had been caught with a few boys in our youth. He kept tried to keep his sexuality a secret due to its scandalous nature. I never understood what concerned others about homosexuality, if you don't like it don't do it. My father has many obnoxious opinions on the topic.

The night had dragged on for several hours while my parents socialized with the Johnsons. I kept my responses polite and brief as possible. The boys were a terrible bore; it appeared that their time at Yale did little for their logic. The Johnsons left after a few hours useless chitchat.

"So what did you think of them," mother questioned me with hope in her eyes.

"Well, I-" the phone rang saving me from answering.

"Mr. Buchanan, there is a call for you," father left.

"…Yes I'll meet with you tomorrow," I heard the end of the conversation and I could tell that mother did as well judging by the look on her face.

My father returned to the living room. We sat in an awkward silence for a moment.

"I have a meeting with Mr. Jones tomorrow. I'll be gone most of the day," father informed us.

"It's been a long day. I am retiring to bed," my mother left. I could tell she was upset.

"Mother's dying and you're going to visit a whore," I accused.

"I'm visiting Mr. Jones for business-"

"You never take calls this late unless it's a mistress. You're a wife is dying! You could at least pretend you care," I raised my voice.

"I do not have to justify myself to you," he walked out.

I went to my room upset. Father had been so careless with mother's feelings. There were times when I thought he cared but mother had always been more of an object to him than anything else. I should have been used to my father's affairs but it hurt so much more knowing that I was going to lose him to a mystery woman and my mother to a illness. After mother passes father is going to abandon me for his mistress.

I looked out across the bay. West Egg sat beyond the bay it was the place where the dreamers with new money used to go. So much hope went into every person that had lived in West Egg back in its prime. I fell asleep thinking about the hope that had once lived across the bay. 

**Okay so I have two ideas for where I could take this story. I could keep it cannon with Gatsby dead and have Pamela make completely different choices in life than her mother (the story would end up Pamela/OC) or I could go AU and send her back to the 1920's and have her meet Gatsby and change some events in the book (Pamela/Gatsby). I seriously have a plot planned for either so some input of what you want would be great.**

 **Unrelated-why is there not Pamela/pammy character option? She was in the book, even if it was briefly.**


	4. Chapter 4

Beautiful Fool

Pamela- chapter 4

 **Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter! I decided to go with the time traveling plot for this story. Sorry to anyone that this disappoints. I will write another Pamela story using the cannon plot (Pamela/OC) after I finish this story. So for this story Pamela will eventually time travel to the 1920's and meet Gatsby. If you have any scenes or characters you want to see later in the story feel free to tell me. My updates will be irregular due to work and school (I have straight A's right now and refuse to lose them this close to the semester end). I will work hard to make sure I do not go to long without updating. Enjoy the Chapter!**

I woke up to knocking at my door. I didn't want to deal with my parents so I rolled over.

"Miss, there's a phone call for you," I recognized the voice of a maid behind the door.

"Who is it," I mumbled into my pillow.

"It's a Nick Carraway, miss,"

"Coming," I leapt out of bed. Cousin Nick had always seemed so splendid knew I would enjoy a conversation with him.

"Hello Mr. Carraway," I answered the phone.

"Pamela you can call me Nick," he chuckled.

"Alright, but if I call you Nick you must call me Elizabeth, all my friends do," I responded.

"Elizabeth, I was hoping to invite you out for lunch," he said.

"Sounds great! Where should we meet?" I asked.

"I'll pick you up around noon," he told me.

"Alright. I'll see you soon,"

After the phone call I went back to my room to get ready. I had still been wearing my night clothes.

"What to wear," I wondered. My mother would wear a really nice dress, but I am not my mother. I put on a pair of brown pants, a blouse and some boots.

I hid a small hand gun in my boot in case of an emergency. Something could easily happen while nick and I were out today. Mother would throw a fit if she knew I carried something so unladylike. I usually carried a weapon of some kind due to the fact it wasn't safe for a woman to go out alone like I often do. A few of my friends had gotten hurt by going out alone and defenseless. I refused to be a victim if I could prevent it.

I told a maid to inform my parents I was leaving and went outside to wait for Nick. I was excited to see him. Nick wasn't like my parents he cared for people and didn't mess with being fake and proper.

I heard a car coming and walked down the steps. Nick drove up and flashed me a smile.

"Hello Elizabeth," he said as one of the help opened the door for me.

"It's nice to see you again Nick," I told him as I entered the car.

"You look lovely today," he told me.

"My parents will have a fit when they see what I'm wearing,"

"You're not your parents. I've done plenty that my family didn't approve of, especially when I was your age," he kept his eyes locked on the road.

"You're not like the rest of the family. You're like me even if I'm not fully sure what that is yet," I expressed my thoughts to him.

"No, you have something much more than the rest of them," he said.

The rest of the drive was in silence. I pondered nick's words as we drove. What did Nick think I have that the others don't? The way he said it lead me to believe it was more than my rebellious attitude that he was referring to.

The restaurant was nice yet simple. It was a place that my mother wouldn't go just because it wasn't up to her standards. I thought it was perfect for a casual lunch.

"Nick, I don't want to offend you but I was wondering something," I paused to give him time to tell me to drop the subject if he wanted.

"Yes?" He nodded his head.

"What happened between you and my parents?" I asked.

"That's a bit difficult to answer. A very brief summary would be that they wronged Jay Gatsby. Jay Gatsby was the best man I ever met," he sighed.

"My mother mentioned a Jay the other day. She said that I would've been good for him," I said.

"You would've been much better for him than your mother. You are everything he needed while your mother was what he thought he wanted."

"They were lovers," I wasn't sure if I was asking or saying.

He nodded.

"And she broke him," I frowned.

He nodded again with tears starting to fill his eyes.

"Has your mother told you her news yet?" He changed the topic.

"She's dying," I said flatly.

"It must be difficult for you. I was much older when I lost my parents," he said.

"After mother dies father wants to leave with his mistress so he's trying to get me married so I'm someone else's problem," I huffed in an unladylike way.

"I wish I could say that comes as a surprise," he gave me a sad look.

"I'm not going to marry for him. He's thought that I'm a disgrace for a long time anyway. This will just finally give him enough reason to kick me out," I shrugged.

"You're welcome to stay with me if you need," he gave a small smile.

"I couldn't impose," I shook my head.

"If you find yourself with no place to go, come to me," he looked me in the eyes and gave me a serious look that told me he meant it.

"Thank you," I told him.

For the rest of the meal we talked about our books and writing. Nick was an intriguing man with an outlook that differed from most. I found conversation easy with him. He was supportive, caring, honest, and an all around good person. He was the type of man I wish my father was for me.

We made light and cheerful conversation on the car ride home.  
Nick walked me up to the door and I hugged him.

"Thank you for taking me out Nick," I smiled.

"The pleasure was mine Elizabeth," he smiled back.

I checked the clock as I entered and frowned. I had been gone all day it was nearly five. I had a good time with Nick so it was time well spent.

As I neared the sitting room the saw the help gathered around the door gossiping. They quickly parted to let me into the room. What I saw shocked me.

The room was destroyed! Objects had been thrown about and the pearls of one of my mother's necklaces were scattered about. What shocked me most was the state my mother was in. My mother was on the couch crying, her makeup was smeared all over her face, and she was drinking straight from a bottle of alcohol.

"Mother what happened?" I ran to her and took the bottle from her.

"He's dead!" She sobbed into my neck.

"Who's dead," I didn't understand what was going on at the time.

"Your father!" She screeched. I held her until she cried herself to sleep.

 **I have a feeling that none of you are greatly upset by Tom's death.**


	5. Chapter 5

Beautiful Fool

Pamela- chapter 5

The next few weeks went by rapidly with a whirlwind of questions and answers. My father had been killed by his mistress's husband much to the humiliation of by mother. The husband had caught my father and his wife in the act and shot them both. After he killed them the husband killed himself.

Our family's social standing had been greatly damaged and now everyone says terrible things about my father. It was everything people thought but wouldn't say due to our social standing. My mother was greatly bothered by their words. I often wished I could defend father but most of what people said was true, my father was an adulterer, a brute, and often drunk. I couldn't care less about my social standing but my mother lived for the spotlight. People avoided mother for the sake of their reputation and no one knew me to begin with so my life was unchanged.

Mother received all of father's money and possessions from the bank. Nick helped my mother through everything for me. I asked him to help because she was hopeless with anything financial and he knew his way around the banking system.

My mother stopped pushing me to get married. She couldn't find a "suitable" man that wanted to be associated with the Buchanan name. We were so busy planning father's funeral that she hardly had time to work on it.

The day of my father's funeral only three people came, me, my mother, and Nick. Nick stood by me granting me silent comfort as my mother cried next to the coffin. Mother barely had the energy to make it to the funeral. Nick and I knew she didn't have long left.

Nick supported me through my father's death and my mother's declining health. I do not know how I would have managed without him. Every time I needed him he was there for me.

When things began to settle down mother tried to spend quality time with me. She was trying to pack years of bonding into the short time she had left.

"Hold on," mother stopped and had a coughing fit. She coughed blood into a handkerchief.

"Oh mother we should head home," I patted her back. We had just left the theater after a long day of shopping.

"Nonsense, I'm fine really. Let's go to dinner," she entered the car with me.

The car ride was silent as she was upset I'm making us return home. We had been out all day when she should have been in bed.

"Stop fussing over me. I haven't had anyone fuss so much since…," she trails off.

"Since who?" I questioned.

"You don't know much about my past do you?" She said more to herself.

The driver stopped at our house and I brought her inside. I helped her to her bed and begin to leave.

"Wait," mother grabbed my arm.

"Yes?" I was startled by the way she had grabbed me.

"I need to tell you things, about me. I know you're so very different so I want you to know-" she began to cough.

"Shhh, mother it's alright. You need rest,"

"No, I'm fine. If it can't get you married before I die I will at least make sure can learn from my mistakes," she then launched into a story that started from when she was a young teen to and finally fell asleep as she was telling me about a father's most recent affair.

My mother gave me much to think on. She had made so many mistakes in her life. The very first one reaffirmed a decision I had made long ago. I will only marry for love. 

**Sorry this chapter is short wanted to give you guys something and this just felt like a good ending place for the chapter. The next one will hopefully be out by this weekend and will be longer. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

Beautiful Fool

Chapter 6

"Nick," I called him from the hospital phone.

"Elizabeth?" he answered his phone.

"Mother's getting worse and told the nurses not to let me in. She's giving up," my voice trembled.

"I'm coming," he hung up.

I haven't talked to my mother in days. Not since we had that conversation about her past. She'd been on bed rest and refused to see anyone but the nurses and doctors. My eyes began to water as once again a nurse refused to let me in on my mother's request.

Nick comes in with his clothes rumpled and hair looked like he had brushed with his fingers in a rush.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," I threw my arms around him.

"Shhh, it's no trouble to come when you need someone," I felt his hands pet the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

"Your mother wishes to see you," a nurse had come up to us.

Nick smiled at me and I followed the nurse into mother's room. Mother looked so frail on the bed. She had gotten so much worse since I had last seen her.

"Mother, you haven't let me see you in days," I sit in the chair next to her bed.

"I didn't want you to watch me die," she patted my hand.

"You know when you were born and the nurse told me you were a girl I only had one hope for you. I had hoped that you would be a beautiful little fool. That's the best thing a girl can be, but you've never been able to do things the easy way," she coughed.

"You were born a fighter. You never take the easy way out, something I never learned. Promise me you'll remember what I told you and be happy," she closed her eyes.

"I promise," I lightly squeezed her hand. Her hand went limp.

"Mother?" Tears spilled from my eyes.

"Doctor! Nurse! Someone" I called as tears spilled down my face.

The doctor pronounced my mother dead just a few moments later. I hugged Nick and stained his jacket with my tears.

Nick took me home a short time after my mother's death.

All my parents' possessions were going to mine soon. It felt so strange to be home without them. I had been gone for years until a few weeks ago but I still felt like a child here.

My mother had a presence that filled a room. She attracted the attention of anyone and everyone. My father was always playing a sport out in the yard.

I dismissed all but one of the staff. I kept a maid who had always been kind to me as a child.

 **Chapter end.**

Just kidding can't leave you there! Read on.

"I can't stay here," I said to an empty room. I had been staying at my family home with Nick.

"Then don't, I understand plenty about ghosts of the past," Nick had heard me.

Nick understood that this place was now ruined for me. No longer was it a place of childhood I fought to avoid. It was a place haunted by the memory of my parents.

"Where do I go?"

I spent plenty of time in England but that wasn't home. Even with so much money at my disposal I didn't know what I wanted.

"Anywhere you want. Although I recently brought my old resistance in West Egg when I realized I'd be here awhile," Nick told me.

"Are you inviting me to live with you," I asked.

"I am. It's nowhere near as glorious as what you're used to and needs fixing but you're welcome to stay," he said.

"Good thing I don't mind a bit of work," I hugged him.

I left my maid in charge of my childhood home until I decided what to do with it. I packed a few bags for Nick's house.

Nick took me to his home. It was a lovely grounds keeper's cottage. It needed some lawn maintenance but besides that it was perfect.

The house next door was large and grand. It looked like something built to suit my mother. She would have liked an over the top house like that one. Our house was old money grand while this one was the flashy new money grand. It was run down at the moment but it would have been beautiful in its prime.

"Does anyone live next door?"

"A great man used to," Nick responded.

"Who was this great man?" He caught my attention.

"Gatsby, his name was Jay Gatsby," he choked a bit.

"Is this the same Jay that mother had an affair with?"

"Your mother was careless with him,"

"She said didn't marry him when he was poor even though she loved him. She didn't think he could make her happy. They had an affair when they met up a few years later when he had plenty of money. She broke up with him shortly after their affair. She broke his heart," I frowned.

"That's not all to the story," Nick shook his head.

"Then tell me the whole story,"

"Well..." Nick went on to tell me a watered down version of the truth. It was clear that Nick saw Gatsby with rose tinted glasses. No one is as perfect as Nick described to me.

"Wait so no one came to his funeral? Not even my mother?" I say appalled.

"It was just me and Gatsby's father,"

"But all the people that went to his parties! And my mother! He basically died from my parents!"

"People tend to take more than they give," he said.

"That's terrible, no one deserves that! His fault was that he was so devoted to my mother," I shake my head.

"How does a many become so rich in a few years," I looked over at the grand house next door.

"He worked in pharmaceuticals," Nick told me. I could tell there was more, the pharmaceutical business does not earn that much. What was Nick hiding from me about Gatsby?

I realized Nick didn't tell me about Gatsby's beginning at all. My mother told me he used to be poor but that was all and Nick did not mention Gatsby's start at all. It seemed like Jay Gatsby was more of a character than a person. Jay Gatsby was a man who put on a perfect mask to the world. I want to know what the real Jay Gatsby was like.

"Come on you need to rest. You've had a long week," Nick brought me to my room.

"Thank you. Sweet dreams," I hugged Nick before he left.

My room had the perfect view of Gatsby's house. I wanted to know more about this enigma that was Jay Gatsby. My mother may have been able to use and discard him but I wanted to know everything that made this mysterious man tick.

 **There was chapter 6! I hope you liked it. Leave a review tell me what you think.**

 **I'm going to have some bonding between Nick and Pamela. If you have any suggestions or things you want to see (with 1920's Nick or the current 1940's Nick) feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review.**


	7. Chapter 7

chapter 7

 **If the formatting is weird it's because I copied and pasted it from my notes to here. I didn't know when I'd be able to get to my computer with time to edit it on word.**

I wanted to thank Nick for his kindness so I woke up early to make us some breakfast. Sadly I was never allowed in the kitchen as a child so my cooking skills were not up to par.

"What happened!" Nick ran in wearing just a robe.

"I tried to cook and I set the pancakes on fire," I was frustrated and covered in batter.

"Can't expect to be perfect the first time,"Nick chuckled.

"Who said it was my first time," I pouted as nick wiped some batter off my face.

"I knew your parents. They wouldn't be caught dead cooking when there's someone to do it for them. I doubt they let you anywhere near a stove," Nick said.

"I wanted to make some breakfast after everything you've done for me," I started to clean up the mess I made in my attempt to cook.

"Here let's clean up and we'll cook breakfast together. Alright?"

"Alright," I smiled.

Nick and I cleaned up the kitchen. Nick was very patient when he taught me how to make proper pancakes.

"These are delicious!" I shoveled pancakes into my mouth.

Nick laughed at my antics.

"Ready Nick?" I walked out of my room in my working clothes, jeans, a flannel shirt and a hat to keep the sun out if my eyes.

"Hmmm?" Nick put down his book and raised an eyebrow at my outfit.

"Lawn maintenance is important," I start gathering his lawn tools.

Nick went upstairs to change while I went outside to start cleaning up the overgrown lawn.

Nick came out as I was trimming a bush. He we wearing clothes for outdoor work. I chuckled thinking about how my mother would have reacted had she seen us.

"I surprisingly never did my yard in the few months I lived here all those years ago," Nick told me.

"It most have been a mess!" I exclaimed.

"It was when I moved in. Gatsby had some of his workers clean it after I agreed to invite Daisy over for him," he told me.

"Seems over the top to have your workers do someone else's yard for a meeting with an old friend," I said.

"That was a way he was. Gatsby always wanted everything perfect," he told me.

"Perfection isn't reality. It's a dream," I shook my head.

"Gatsby worked his whole life trying to make his dream a reality," Nick told me.

I didn't know how to respond to that so we worked in silence for a bit. I looked over to the pile of leaves Nick had raked.

"That looks fun," I ran to the leaves and jumped.

"Wha-" leaves flew into Nicks mouth as he turned to me.

I looked at Nick standing covered in leaves and he looked at me half covered in leaves while I laid on the ground. We broke into laugher.

Eventually we finished the yard. Even Covered in dirt, leaves, and sweat I could say I enjoyed myself.

 **Experiences writers block and suffers from a busy life that prevents author from writing in a timely manner for readers. Had this part written for awhile but wanted more before I posted so read on!**

I sat on the floor of Nick's office writing in a journal. I wanted to write out all my thoughts in pen before I went to the typewriter. Nick sat at his desk hitting the keys frantically. It was relaxing to sit in Nick's presence and work. Watching Nick work so diligently urged me to work just as hard.

We worked in silence until I could not stay still any longer. I put my journal down and crept up behind Nick to read what he had been working on. Nick was writing about his experience in world war 1. Seems fitting with another world war going on.

I walked around the room and looked at everything. I stopped as I saw an unpublished book. I picked up the book _The Great Gatsby_ by Nick Carraway. Nick and my mother had already told me so much about their time with Jay Gatsby but I couldn't resist more knowledge about the man.

I looked over at Nick who was still typing away on his typewriter. Silently I took the book and crept to my room. I stayed in my room for hours reading the book. Nick didn't disturb me as he was busy with his writing. After the book I felt like I had a better understanding of the man who grew into Jay Gatsby.

Eventually Nick found me asleep with the book. He tucked me in and out the book on my bedside table. I needed my rest for what was to come the next day.

 **It's short I'm sorry. I've been sitting on this chapter for a bit too long. I've been busy with life and school. I'll keep working as I can. I'm taking some college courses over the summer so don't expect my writing pace to speed up but I will keep working.**

 **Time travel in the next chapter!**


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